Hateful Desires
by Yorugami Ahou
Summary: [ Edited! ] The esteemed Doctor Muraki wistfully ponders upon his twisted but lust filled relationship with a certain violet-eyed Shinigami.


Title: From Hate, Of Hate and will always be Hate  
Author: FalconIce  
Disclaimer: Don't own Yami and never will. Sad ain't it? All us fanfiction authrs can do is pine all day over that cerain fact.  
Notes: This is under muraki's POV and yes, it's weird. I feel weird and antsy today and I don't care...! Pardon the spelling and the grammatical errors. This fic hasn't been beta-read and if you want to volounteer, go ahead and e-mail me! But for now...its just as it is. ^.^;; I'm just one lazy bastard.  
Reviews: If you do...I'll forver thank the stars that you did so. ^.^  
  
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There is so much pain inside of me. A dark empty sphere that sucks out the soul into an abyss of darkness where feelings are dead and hope lies eviscerated on a pool of its own waning light.  
  
*Silver strands of hair slowly float along the wind as a figure wearing an immaculate white trenchcoat is seen walking down a darkened path under the moonlight.*  
  
Two of us joined in the dance of love and death of which is just a part of the other. Life, or what we have of it, seems an unending road into the twilight of our mind. Never satisfied...always craving for the unattainable perfectness; is it how we are bound to live?  
  
*A soft petal of a sakura blossom caresses through creamy whte skin on its decent to the ground. A hand ghosts upwards to touch the area that continues to tingle at the soft pressure.*  
  
To feel, to love and to see...All that is life is just a mere prickling of moments passing us by. Neh, Tsuzuki?  
You and I are more alike than you know. Both, buried under the suffocating embrace of emotion most would gladly die under. But no, we are enduring. Everlasting in our struggle and that is why I hold this much emo-  
  
* Hands tighten to form fists as a steady gust of wind swirl a momentous amount of petals into a whirling cascade of pink rain.*  
  
Two souls into a loop of anger, hatred and love. But can we really call it that?  
You who are so beautiful under the caress of the blood red moon whereas I...the ever demented and hated opressor of the innocents.  
Ah, the Yin and Yang. Neh, Tsuzuki?  
  
*Moonlight softly penetrates the canopy of the Sakura trees and bathes a small clearing in the warm brilliance of its hold. A form is seen emerging from the dark forestline only to turn brilliant metallic pools of silver towards the source of light. A luminescant red moon hanging in the sky. *  
  
My night has come...as I need it. The moon always seems to bleed when my mind, whatever is left of it, comes into a feverish boil of thoughts and feelings.  
Should I kill again for you my beloved puppy? To fulfill my promise to make an altar of corpses around you?  
But...  
  
* A soft flutter of wings momentarily succeeds in distracting the figure from its thoughts.*  
  
It hurts deeply. This wild but wondrous feeling that comes to me. This very urge to love...to kill and eventually hurt.  
Feelings that are distortedly winding around each other to combine and become a grosteque parody of my mind.  
The simplicity of insanity and the complexity of saneness. An enigma that most don't have to deal with in the entirety of their life. Unlike you and me, my little Shinigami.  
  
* Pale features turn to look more pointedly to the moon as yet another figure, this one in dark clothing, emerges from the forest line.*  
  
I hear the soft patter of your footsteps heading towards me. Oh, how I wait in dreadful anticipation everytime I sense you coming.  
You softly say my name on the night breeze. This of course sends a wonderful shiver down my spine. The ways you excite me are infinte in number.  
  
*The figure in black grows agitated as it carefully but purposely heads towards the other figure in the clearing. There are no other witness to this encounter except for the trees around them.*  
  
Your eyes are lovely tonight in their fear and lust for me. I can only admire them as you slowly approach. Afterall, I don't own you Tsuzuki...no matter how much I would want to.  
  
* Two figures stand opposing each other. One white and the other dark but both bathed and baptised under the warm cascade of moonlight. *  
  
I smile at you and at your innocence. Or is it?  
You and I, though we may not see are made to last. Both a corrupted progeny of the our dark lineage.  
Sired from hatred, to live in hatred, and one day, die from hatred.  
  
*Delicate white hands come up to touch. This sends a wave of sensual feeling to the two figures in the clreaing who continue to regard each other in solemn silence. *  
  
How ironic is this.You and I. Made to hate but finding love within each other. How extremely twisted and pitiful.  
Yet, as I reach out a hand to touch you and feel the soft flutter of your heart. I find, that within myself, the barriers of unfeelingness and hatred come down and crumble under the assault of emotions that shouldn't be for us. Never for us.  
  
* A clash of passion under the cold breeze of the night. Alone in the clearing, a forbidden love is being unleashed. Sadness hang limply in the air at such a tragic union of souls destined to die and wither under the hand of fate.*  
  
Your skin is smooth under my touch and your mouth sweet under my kisses.   
Oh, as we bear fruit and blossom under the oppression of our lives, we seem always to find a little to keep us living. Sadness; tragedy. For such things as a little hope only seem to bring us even more pain later yet, maybe, we are just two masochists trying to see if it is pain that keeps us alive after all. To see that our souls are still there...  
  
*Darkness and light are flung aside as auras of power dance unhindered under the stony gaze of the moon.*  
  
An agony of pleasure, these sweet fires of passion. Both of us held in the thorny cusps of our wanting, our lust.  
The moon, even as it glows redly on my day of reckoning finds our joining a trajedy of proportions only Enma may know.  
  
* Two figures stand to face each other. Dressed back into the masks of trajedy and turn about to leave and live the life once more of hatred's cildren.*  
  
Yet, here we are again. Living for pain. Always two souls undetermined in their paths of hate and love. Will we ever be saved, I wonder. But if we ever do...I think I 'll deny it in the end. After all, this is the life we lead and will always lead anything else wouldn't feel right, neh Tsuzuki-kun? May we see each other again. But until then. Live for hate, kill for hate and hopefully...die for hate.  
  
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P.S. Anyone want me to write more stuff like this? * hint hint * 


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